


It Only Hurts for a Minute

by ash_carpenter, Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_carpenter/pseuds/ash_carpenter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: A lawyer walks into a vampire lair...





	It Only Hurts for a Minute

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a little ficlet by me and an image by the fabulous ash_carpenter in answer to our fic/art tag-team prompt, "It Only Hurts for a Minute".

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/hello_spikey/pic/000023fw/)  
  
  
Spike let the door close behind him and smiled at the unexpected visitor sitting in the middle of his lair-of-the-week. “I don’t recall calling for take-away,” he said.  
  
The human was dressed in a nice, expensive suit, but sprawled casually on a stack of wooden pallets, a nearly empty beer resting between his fingertips. He stood. “Hi. I’m Lindsey.” He held out a hand. He had the expensive cologne and desperation smell of a lawyer, and the hand was prosthetic.  
  
Spike smirked and walked past the human to where he’d set up a nice sitting area. “Not recruiting presently, but feel free to leave your resume with the secretary.”  
  
Lindsey dropped his hand without looking concerned. “I brought another beer to share, but you took longer than expected to return. I’m here about a mutual acquaintance,” he said, obviously not knowing an escape opportunity when he saw it.   
  
Spike would have to give Dalton a word or two about leaving the lair unattended. All sorts of vermin wandered in: rats, lawyers.  
  
Lindsey cleared his throat. “A vampire you might have heard of, named Angel?”  
  
Spike stopped rummaging through the seat-cushions for the TV remote. “And suddenly I’m not bored.” He turned to see Lindsey standing not far from him. “Okay. You have twenty seconds to say what you came to say, and THEN I’ll eat you.”  
  
“I want you to turn me.”  
  
Spike threw his hands up. “What IS it with this town? I suppose you’ll wrap the slayer up for me if I oblige?”  
  
Lindsey squinted. “Uh… no. Look, I need to defeat Angel. My life, my career depends on it, and I’ve done just about everything I can think of. My sources tell me you’d be sympathetic. Seeing as how I’m offering my life here, maybe you can stop screwing around?”  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and got out his cigarettes. Lindsey watched him intently while he lit up. He exhaled the first puff and waved his cigarette. “It will take more than being a vampire to take out Angelus, or I’d have done it already.”  
  
“I have a plan. This is part of it.”  
  
Spike swaggered up to Lindsey. “Happens I have a plan, too. Do you consider that I might want to be the one to off the old sire?” Spike blew smoke directly into his face.  
  
“Tell me your plan, then, and I’ll help.”  
  
Spike purred, “Tell me yours.”  
  
They stared at each other stonily a long moment. Lindsey shrugged. “Either way, super-strength can’t hurt.”  
  
Lindsey looked so earnest, Spike had to laugh. He dropped his arm on the lawyer’s shoulders, which he found surprisingly muscular under their padding of virgin lamb wool or whatever the fuck toffs wore these days. He took another drag. “I like you.”  
  
Lindsey closed his eyes. “Just turn me. Whatever you want in return, it’s yours.”  
  
Spike stepped behind him and nuzzled his ear. “Tsk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to make open-ended deals with vampires?”  
  
“Once or twice, but I hate negotiations.”  
  
Spike ghosted his nose over the warm, soft flesh of Lindsey’s neck, picking up the base scent of the man. “I expected more fear.”  
  
“I’m not afraid of dying.”  
  
“Dying’s the easy part, mate.”  
  
Lindsey shrugged very slightly, not to jar the monster at his throat. “It only hurts for a minute, right?”  
  
Spike let his fangs drag over skin, bringing up a delicious trail of beaded blood, which he licked away, tasting despair, anxiety, hope, and the delicious shiver of tension. He blew on the trail of moisture he’d left and felt the body go stiff against him. “Oh, not if I do my job right,” he whispered. He slipped his hand inside the suit jacket, finding a pebbled nipple under the smooth shirt.   
  
He flicked it with the pad of his thumb and bit.


End file.
